


Full Service

by draculard



Category: Star Wars Legends: Thrawn Trilogy - Timothy Zahn
Genre: Crack, Dubious Consent, Humor, Jealousy, M/M, Master/Servant, Oral Sex, Somnophilia, Surprise Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-31
Updated: 2020-08-31
Packaged: 2021-03-06 19:54:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,654
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26204527
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/draculard/pseuds/draculard
Summary: “What did Rukh say to you?” Thrawn asked, a hint of concern flashing across his face. Pellaeon glanced down at his shoes and felt himself blushing.“Well, it’s … it’s rather upsetting, sir,” he said, keeping his voice low. He could feel Thrawn watching him as he spoke. “I don’t know how to tell you this … in the antechamber, you see, Rukh was … sort of bragging to me, sir, about something he does while you’re sleeping.”A harsh line appeared between Thrawn’s eyebrows, but he didn’t say a word.
Relationships: Gilad Pellaeon/Thrawn | Mitth’raw’nuruodo, Rukh/Thrawn | Mitth’raw’nuruodo
Kudos: 25





	Full Service

Pellaeon’s shift on the bridge was over, and he’d already done his rounds through the crew pits, but there was one last thing he wanted to see to before he retired. He exited the bridge and headed aft, toward Thrawn’s command room. The Grand Admiral rarely had post-shift orders for Pellaeon, but someday he might, and Pellaeon didn’t intend to skip his check-in that day.

He keyed for access to the antechamber, swiping his code cylinder and waiting for the doors to open. Sometimes, when he checked in this late in the night cycle, he caught Thrawn sleeping — but more often, he found the Grand Admiral still awake and in uniform, his eyes narrowed to slits as he studied art. 

He hoped today would be one of those times; it was infinitely more awkward to interrupt the Grand Admiral’s sleep just to ask if he had further orders (obviously not, since he was sleeping; hence the awkwardness). Not to mention the fact that it delayed Pellaeon’s own sleep unnecessarily as he waited for Thrawn to wake, put on his dressing gown, and answer the door to his private quarters. And the time spent dealing with Rukh was just…

The doors slid open. Speaking of Rukh—

“Oh, stop it,” Pellaeon growled, swatting the knifepoint away from his neck. He missed it, of course; by the time he lifted his hand, Rukh had already taken the knife away. “I’m here to see the Grand Admiral,” Pellaeon said, straightening his uniform.

Rukh stepped out from behind Pellaeon and glowered up at him. 

“You wish to see the Grand Admiral?” he asked, his tone dark. Pellaeon did his level best to squash a surge of exasperation.

“Yes,” he said. “Like I do every day, Rukh. It’s the end of my shift. At the end of my shift, I check with the Grand Admiral to see if he has orders. Every day.”

“And if he does not wish to see you?” Rukh asked, stroking the dull edge of his blade.

Pellaeon’s eyebrows twitched. He narrowed his eyes, studying Rukh to see if this was a bluff or a genuine question. “Did he tell you not to let me in?” he asked.

Rukh didn’t answer.

“If the Grand Admiral wants some privacy, that’s fine,” said Pellaeon, barely keeping a grip on his patience. “But if this is you putting words in his mouth—”

“Do I not have the right to put words in his mouth?” asked Rukh.

“ _No_ ,” said Pellaeon, voice clipped. “No, you do not, Rukh. Because you are his bodyguard. _Bodyguards_ do not put words in the Grand Admiral’s mouth.”

Rukh made a scratchy coughing sound that Pellaeon supposed was meant to be a scoff.

“I am his servant, not you,” Rukh said. “I anticipate his needs like no other. When he needs protection, it is I who protects him. When he needs to intimidate, I do the intimidating.”

This time it was Pellaeon who scoffed, resisting the urge to roll his eyes. As if _Thrawn_ needed any help intimidating people. He turned to the door, ready to push past Rukh to see the Grand Admiral if necessary.

“I see to his every need,” Rukh continued, not noticing the interruption. “When he needs rest, I see to it that he is not disturbed. When he is thirsty, I bring him water. When he hungers, I bring him food. When he gets an erection in the middle of the night, I—”

“What?” Pellaeon whipped around to stare at Rukh, his hand halfway to the door release. “What did you say?”

“—I suck him off,” Rukh finished calmly.

“ _What_?”

“I see to his needs,” said Rukh severely. " _Someone_ has to."

“Are you saying you—” Pellaeon cut himself off and brushed past Rukh, opening the door to Thrawn’s command room. He could see the back of Thrawn’s head several meters away as he lounged in his command chair. “ _Sir_!” Pellaeon hissed under his breath. “Grand Admiral Thrawn!”

There was no response. Thrawn was so engrossed in his study of artwork that he couldn’t hear a thing. Quickly, Pellaeon closed the door again and stalked back to Rukh.

“Are you saying you touch the Grand Admiral while he’s sleeping?” he demanded, eyes wide. Another thought occurred to him, this one somehow worse. He furrowed his eyebrows. “Or are you saying you wake him up first and _then_ do it?”

The look Rukh gave him was almost scandalized. “Of course I don’t wake him,” he said, voice dripping in contempt. “The Master needs his sleep. I would be a very poor servant indeed if I interrupted him.”

“So you’re sucking him off—” Pellaeon interrupted himself viciously, refusing to put the concept into words.

“Are you confused about the definition?” Rukh asked him.

“No,” said Pellaeon stiffly. “I am not.”

Across from him, Rukh stuck his tongue against the inside of his cheek and mimed a blowjob. Pellaeon slapped his hand away from his mouth at once. 

“Don’t do that,” he snapped. “That's obscene. Rukh, did the Grand Admiral _tell_ you to do this for him?”

“A wise servant anticipates his master’s need,” said Rukh levelly, with a hint of pride.

“So, no, he didn’t,” Pellaeon concluded. He cast a grim look at the closed door. “You know, there’s a legal term for what you’re doing. It’s not a good term.”

“He likes it,” said Rukh with an unbothered shrug. “His physiological response is evidence of that.”

Pellaeon sucked in a deep breath and counted to ten, willing himself not to explode. “That’s _rape_ , Rukh,” he whispered. “I can’t believe I have to tell you this.”

Rukh gave him a smug smile and shrugged again. “I’m only relieving him of his discomfort, Captain. It keeps his mind clear. Stops him from being distracted.”

“Again,” Pellaeon said, “are these things he’s _told_ you, or are these justifications you’ve made up inside your own head? Because I’m trying to picture you and the Grand Admiral calmly discussing this, Rukh, and I’m just not seeing it.”

Rukh’s smile disappeared, replaced with a defiantly wooden expression that didn’t fool Pellaeon at all.

“Yeah, I didn’t think so,” he muttered. He smoothed back his hair, trying to calm himself down, and irritably gestured toward the door. “Is he expecting me? Can I go in? Or are you going to menace me a little more with your knife first?”

Rukh, whose hand had been straying toward the knife as Pellaeon spoke, scowled and shook his head. “You’re taking the fun out of it,” he said. 

“Oh, am I?” Pellaeon said. “Oh, how unfortunate.”

“Just go in,” Rukh told him, waving him on.

Pellaeon strolled into the command room with an exasperated shake of his head. Thrawn didn’t glance up as the doors opened and closed; he didn’t seem to notice Pellaeon’s presence until the captain crept into view above Thrawn’s double ring display.

“Sir,” said Pellaeon respectfully, his voice giving nothing away.

“Captain,” Thrawn greeted him, eyebrows raised. He glanced at his chrono. “I rather thought you’d have retired to your quarters by now.”

Pellaeon swallowed a sour look. “I rather thought so, too, sir,” he muttered. “I decided to check with you before I ended my shift. Your, ah, bodyguard waylaid me in the antechamber outside.”

Thrawn craned his neck, looking over his shoulder at the closed door. “Did he, now?”

Pellaeon said nothing. When Thrawn turned to look at him again, Pellaeon hoped he had his expression under control.

“I’ll have a talk with him,” Thrawn assured him. “Remind him of your status aboard this ship. I apologize for his behavior in the meantime, Captain.”

Oh, if only he knew. Pellaeon swallowed a bitter surge of saliva and turned away, trying to keep his face neutral.

“Any orders, sir, before I retire?” he asked.

Thrawn hummed, giving the issue some thought before shaking his head. His eyes were fixed on the art holos before him. “No, Captain. Nothing further.”

Pellaeon nodded, but he didn’t move. He stood awkwardly on the other side of Thrawn’s display with his hands clasped behind his back, rubbing his left wrist with the pad of his right thumb.

“Are you…” He started. He glanced at the door to the antechamber and cleared his throat. When he glanced back, Thrawn was still staring at the art holos, as if he hadn’t heard. “Are you going to retire soon, then, sir?” Pellaeon asked.

After a long moment, Thrawn’s red eyes trained on him. 

“Within a few hours, certainly,” he said. His voice was smooth and casual, revealing nothing about his thoughts. But his eyes narrowed as he studied Pellaeon. “Why do you ask?”

“Well…” Pellaeon shifted from foot to foot and stole another glance at the door. This time, Thrawn followed his eyes. He swiveled around in his chair to glance at the antechamber and then turned back to Pellaeon with a frown.

“What did Rukh say to you?” Thrawn asked, a hint of concern flashing across his face. Pellaeon glanced down at his shoes and felt himself blushing.

“Well, it’s … it’s rather upsetting, sir,” he said, keeping his voice low. He could feel Thrawn watching him as he spoke. “I don’t know how to tell you this … in the antechamber, you see, Rukh was … sort of bragging to me, sir, about something he does while you’re sleeping.”

A harsh line appeared between Thrawn’s eyebrows, but he didn’t say a word.

“He, ah…” Pellaeon rubbed the back of his neck, looking away. When he finally dragged his eyes back to Thrawn’s face, he couldn’t quite manage eye contact. “He says he … _takes care of you_ while you’re sleeping, sir. If you get my drift.”

Thrawn frowned. _Please,_ Pellaeon prayed, _let him get my drift._

“You mean he provides me with oral sex?” Thrawn asked eventually, his voice measured. There was a puzzled look on his face, subtle but still obviously there.

“Yes, sir,” said Pellaeon with a sigh. 

“I know,” Thrawn said.

Pellaeon nodded, then stopped mid-nod as he realized what Thrawn had said. He blinked, momentarily thrown off-balance. “You _know_? You mean to say he actually asked for your _permission_ first?”

“I didn’t say that,” said Thrawn mildly. “But I would be remarkably unobservant if I didn’t notice. He doesn’t clean up afterward.”

Oh, that was _way_ too much information. Pellaeon grimaced and tried to erase that last sentence from his mind.

“So he _didn’t_ ask for permission,” he said, moving past it. Watching Thrawn carefully, he asked, “And you don’t mind?”

“Not particularly,” said Thrawn. “I can think of better partners, but…” He shrugged eloquently, his eyes on the twin displays before him. “It helps keep my mind clear,” he said. “Allows me to focus on strategy during the day, rather than physical needs.”

Pellaeon tried not to sigh audibly at that, but it was hard not to. It irked him beyond belief that Thrawn and Rukh, without discussing it, had parroted each other’s words.

“You know how most Imperials deal with those physical needs, sir?” he asked. 

Thrawn raised an eyebrow.

“They have sex with each other,” said Pellaeon. “Or they just masturbate. They don’t set up a strange under-the-table contract so an alien bodyguard can fellate them while they’re sleeping.”

“It’s a good system,” Thrawn insisted. 

“It’s really _not_ ,” Pellaeon said. He ran his fingers through his hair, suddenly feeling ten times more stressed than he had on the bridge. Oh, to be fighting Rebels right now…

“I don’t see what the problem is,” Thrawn told him, his voice matter-of-fact. “Rukh and I are the only two non-humans aboard this ship. It goes without saying we’d find some solace in each other—”

Pellaeon grimaced; something about the word ‘solace’ in Thrawn’s voice made him break out in unpleasant gooseflesh. 

“—and besides,” said Thrawn, turning casually back to his art displays. “I rather like the surprise and vulnerability of being serviced in my sleep.”

Pellaeon’s brain stuttered. He coughed into his fist and blinked a few times, but it didn’t help; his brain just wouldn’t start working again. Thrawn had broken him. 

“Well, what do _you_ like?” said Thrawn, more curiously than defensively. 

“I’m not going to sit here and discuss my kinks with you, sir,” Pellaeon bit out, cheeks burning. 

“Why not?” asked Thrawn, as if he genuinely didn’t know. After a long period of hesitation, Pellaeon just shook his head.

“I wouldn’t imagine _you_ enjoying vulnerability in bed,” he said, switching the focus back to Thrawn. 

“I strike you as the controlling type?” Thrawn asked, raising one blue-black eyebrow. 

Begrudgingly, Pellaeon said, “I suppose not.” Then, turning the topic over in his head, he added, “Is it really a surprise, though, since you know he’s going to do it?”

“He doesn’t do it every night,” Thrawn countered. “Only when it’s necessary.”

Pellaeon thought of Rukh’s repulsive little face. Privately, he was pretty sure it was _never_ necessary to get a night-time blowjob from that gremlin, but he kept this thought to himself. He was still chewing it over in his head when Thrawn leaned forward, switching off the display ring with an audible click.

Pellaeon watched with furrowed eyebrows as the art holos around the room disappeared. The lights stayed dim; Thrawn stood, smoothing out the wrinkles in his tunic and stepped past Pellaeon without a word. At the door to his quarters, he paused, glancing over his shoulder at Pellaeon.

He raised an eyebrow.

Pellaeon pointed to his chest questioningly.

Thrawn nodded.

“ _Me_?” said Pellaeon aloud, just to make absolutely sure he wasn’t interpreting things wrong. A pained expression crossed Thrawn’s face.

“Yes, you,” he said. “Come on.”

Pellaeon didn’t move. He glanced at the antechamber door. “Right now?” he asked.

“Well, if you don’t _want_ to—” Thrawn started. He turned toward his quarters, opening the door with a pneumatic hiss.

“No, no,” said Pellaeon quickly, catching up to Thrawn in a few short steps. He grabbed the Grand Admiral by the arm, stopping him for just a moment. “I’m not unwilling,” he said. “I’m just — that is — are you sure, sir?”

Thrawn glanced down at Pellaeon’s hand on his arm. His eyes dragged back up to Pellaeon’s face.

“I don’t understand humans,” he said simply. “Despite my best efforts, I find you in particular difficult to read.”

Pellaeon blinked, then huffed out a laugh. “Don’t try to flatter me, sir,” he said. “You don’t need to. I’ll gladly go to bed with you if that’s what you want.”

It would really stick it to Rukh, too. 

Thrawn returned his smile with a faint quirk of the lips, then nodded toward his quarters. He shut the door as Pellaeon stepped in after him, and suddenly Pellaeon couldn’t help but feel simultaneously claustrophobic and exposed. He found himself staring at Thrawn’s bed, his mouth dry. 

When he turned back, Thrawn was already undressed to the waist.

“Oh,” said Pellaeon. His eyes tracked down Thrawn’s chest to the hard planes of his abs. He worked some moisture into his mouth and forced himself to meet Thrawn’s gaze as the Grand Admiral started on his trousers. “So what’s the goal for tonight?” Pellaeon asked with what he thought was a courageous air. “Vulnerability or control?” 

A smile flitted across Thrawn’s face. “You tell me,” he said.

Pellaeon couldn’t help but smile back.

* * *

Rukh sat with his back against the Master’s closed bedroom door, his knife in his hands and a scowl tugging at his lips. He did his best to ignore the smell of sex and that dreadful human’s voice mingling with his Master’s, both of them making the absolute worst noises in the galaxy as they neared climax together. All of it emanated in an agonizing cacophony from behind the Master’s door, tormenting Rukh, like a special hell designed just for him.

His hands tightened on the knife handle. He was going to do _so_ much stabbing when Pellaeon came out.


End file.
